Harder To Breathe
by IdIoTiC-FrEaK-Of-NaTuRe
Summary: He's the sexy monster. She's the innocent artist. Their paths never should have crossed. But when he falls for her, he loses all control. Can Jace overcome his condition, or will Clary have to say goodbye... forever. Summary inside. Clace/Simabelle/Malec.
1. Banged by a Box of Crayons

**Okay, this is my first time doing an MI fic, and my first time writing in 3****rd**** person, so tell me how I did. **

**Summary – He's the sexy, sarcastic jerk that has girls falling all over him; left, right and center. She's the cute, innocent aritist that no one takes a second look at. When a class assignment brings them together, she learns he might not be the jerk everyone thinks he is. Will Jace let her in, fall for her, and tell her his secret? Or will he push her away, like he's done with everyone else?**

**Note – The rating for this might change, just because my ideas might change. I highly doubt it will, but there will be major fluffiness and some lemonade later on. Also, a lot of the plot is sort of based on the actual series, but again, ideas can change. If it gets too confusing, which it might, let me know.**

**Disclaimer: All MI characters and quotes belong to Cassandra Clare. I own nothing but the plot and anything I make up.**

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><p><em>He flipped his head, a failed attempt to get the stray strands of blonde hair out of his eyes. A drop of sweat fell into his eye, momentarily distracting him. It was enough that his trainer had an opportunity to get a good punch in. Thrown off balance, Jonathan was sent flying into the wall. He narrowly avoided smashing his head against the wall, but did in fact thump his shoulder.<em>

_"Stay focused, Jonathan." Said boy nodded, knowing failure was not an option. Disappointing his mother – or worse, his stepfather – was not an option. Not again. He knew what the consequences were for making such a mistake. His face set in determination; he wiped the sweat off his forehead and pushed himself off the ground._

_"What – is the beloved Angel child tired?" His trainer taunted him, crossing his arms over his chest. "I told you, sir, he is incapable of Changing. He may be fast on his feet and good with a knife, and while he is human, that could prove useful. But when he is attacked, his inability to Change would be the death of him." He went on, turning to look at the other man in the room, Jonathan's stepfather. "Not even I can figure out what triggers his Change. The extra training, as with both your time and mine, is being wasted on him."_

_"Patience, Hodge. He is capable of marvellous things, he is just afraid. We will try again tom-"_

_"No!" Jonathan pleaded. "No, I can Change. I can do it now, please tonight!" He was begging now, looking between his stepfather and his trainer._

_"Alright then," his stepfather agreed, "you have exactly five seconds before I am going upstairs." The two of them stepped back, giving him more room._

_"Yes sir." Jonathan fell to his knees, putting all his focus, energy and concentration on Changing. Hodge began counting._

_"One…" he clenched his hands into fists, feeling the muscles in his shoulders move."Two…" His jaw shifted, as if trying to break away from his head. "Three…" He fought back tears of pain. "Four, Jonathan we can work on this tomorrow-"_

_"No! Just… wait." Jonathan began to feel a headache form, but not the Change._

_"Five." The eight-year-old unclenched his hands, slowly opening his eyes. His stepfather was staring down at him with a mixed look of hatred and disgust. He stepped forward to Jonathan, kneeling in front of the boy. For a moment, Jonathan was afraid he would be hit, but instead Valentine grabbed his jaw forcefully. "If you weren't as valuable as you are, I would disown you. You are nothing to me, you or your mother. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were completely human." He let go of his chin, standing and storming out of the room, Hodge on his heels. After the doors closed, when he was left in complete darkness, it was only then that he let the tears fall._

_It was almost 10 minutes later before the pain came. A scream escaped his lips as a jolt of electricity shot from the bracelet located on his left wrist. Once the shot made its way through his body, reaching his other arm and his legs, Jonathan steadied himself on all fours. He let out another scream, willingly this time, as he felt the muscles in his shoulders shift._

_"J.C., honey, are you down here?" Barely hearing the soft sound of his mother's concerned voice, Jonathan found himself focusing more on the blood pouring out of his mouth. He felt as if his body had been lit on fire. A burning white-hot fire eating away at his skin. He felt a pressure on his shoulder, then blurred words. He struggled to make sense of them._

_"Jonathan, sweetie, can you hear me?" He forced his head to nod, momentarily relaxing at the sound of his mother's voice. "Okay, honey, you've got to relax. You are beginning your first Change, so it's going to hurt a lot." As if to mark her words, another bolt of pain was sent to him back, his shoulders shifting again. "Please, J.C., stop trying to fight it and relax." Listening, he let himself relax slightly in his mother's arms. She rubbed the spot most of the pain was directed: the spot between his shoulder blades where his neck and shoulders met. "Shh… you're doing great," she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes. More soothing words, a tear fell down, followed by an 'I love you, Jonathan', and another shot of fire sent him over the edge._

_"Aaaaah!"_

"Aah!" Jace woke up with a shout of horror. He sat up quickly, his hair stuck to his head with perspiration, a cold sweat dripping down his neck to his chest and back.

"Jace?" Isabelle opened the bedroom door, dressed in a silk red Chinese top with a black dragon running down the side and skinny jeans. "Are you alright?" Her long black hair was in a ponytail, showing she clearly hadn't started on her hair and makeup yet.

"Yeah, Izzy, I'm fine." He tried unsuccessfully to convince her. She gave him a sceptical look, one that said she clearly didn't believe him. "It was just a bad dream," he sighed. "I'm fine."

"Dream, Jace… or a nightmare?" His adopted sister sat down beside him on the bed. "You've been having a lot of those lately." Reaching up, she pushed away the hair on his forehead, meeting his eyes, then she gasped. "Whatever your nightmare was about, it was enough to make you almost Change." Jace groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Do you want to, I dunno, talk about it?" She offered. On the inside, he was grateful for her offer, but knew it would probably only cause her to pity him.

"Isabelle, I'm a guy. We don't talk about our dreams. Sorry to disappoint." He smirked, rolling off the bed. "Now, unless you want to see me naked, which I wouldn't blame you for, I mean look at me." He ran a hand up his abs, grinning as his sister rolled her eyes.

"Trust me on this one, Jace. I have more important things to be doing then watching you strive to make your ego larger than it already is. I've seen enough of that to last me a lifetime." With that, she stood up and left his room. After she left, Jace groaned loudly. Grabbing a towel, he headed to the bathroom across the hall. Closing the door softy, he gripped the counter so tightly his knuckles turned white. Slowly, he brought his head up, wincing at the reflection that stared back at him.

Somewhere between his dream and reality, some of the pain had been real. He'd been mid-through his Change when he woke up, therefore only some of his features were different. His hands: slightly stronger looking, the thin white scars beginning to show. The muscles in his arms stood out a little more toward his forearms. Details not very many people would take much notice to.

His eyes, on the other hand, were stuck mid-Change. His normally golden eyes were now mixed with a brilliant swirl of bright red.

He was a monster.

Alec and Isabelle would just call him otherwise; saying he was just another Skylar. His mother would call him beautiful; his stepfather called him useless yet magnificent.

He called himself a monster.

Releasing the counter, he stepped into the shower. Placing his palms on the chilled tile wall, he let the hot water run through his hair and down his back, relaxing the muscles in his shoulders. 13 minutes later, Jace was back in his own room – his skin flushed from the heat of the water, his eyes back to their sparkling gold, his blonde curls stuck to his forehead with water.

"Jace!" Alec yelled up the stairs. "You ready or not?"

Reaching into the top drawer of the nightstand, he pulled out a silver chain. Pushing it over his head, it fell to rest on the base of his neck. He lifted the ring attached to the end. "Yeah," he called out absently. He was rubbing his thumb over the ring's surface. His mother's ring. "I'm coming."

.o.O.o. .x.X.x. .o.O.o.

_'Lose yourself in the music, the moment, you own it, you better never let i-'_ Clary reached out, pressing the little green button. Bringing the phone to her ear, she mumbled a groggy, "Hello?"

"Morning, sunshine." The voice on the other end said cheerily.

"Good morning, Si." She said, trying to sound a little more awake and rubbing the sleep out if her eye. "Out of curiosity, what in your right mind told you it was a good idea to wake me up at 6:30 in the morning?"

"Well," he started, "because I know that if I didn't call to wake you up, I would either have had to drive there and do it in person, or that you would sleep till noon and end up missing the art assignment. Hate to say it, but we _do_ have school today, Fray." Clary cracked a smile, hearing the mild disgust in her best friend's voice.

"You only go to school to see Isabelle," she pointed out. "Admit it, Lewis." Rolling off her bed, she pushed her blinds open.

"I suppose, do you think she likes me, because I have this plan-"

Morning light was there to greet her, as was a cute little black and yellow bird, feeding on a worm. The scene was too gorgeous to miss. She grabbed her digital camera, snapping two pictures quickly. The first was of the bird perched on her windowsill, looking towards the sky, the sun shining its feathers a tinge of blue. The other was of it taking flight, the worm still half hanging out its mouth.

"So, what do you think?" Simon asked hopefully.

"Beautiful. Absolutely perfect." She muttered absently, still admiring the photos. Simon huffed, sounding confused.

"So, to be clear, you think my plan to get Isabelle to dig me, minding the fact that she's got a super-boy boyfriend, and even super-er bodyguard she calls her brother watching her every move, is… beautiful." He said incredulously, snapping Clary out of her trance.

"No, Si, I'm not even listening to you." She said honestly, turning off her camera. "I took this picture. It's really neat, I'll show you when you get here." Before he could say anything, she quickly continued. "I'm going to go get ready, see you soon." Not waiting for a response, she hung up the phone. The second she placed it down, however, it buzzed.

_'Text me when you're done, -Si.'_

Crossing the hallway, she stepped into the bathroom. After ten minutes of hot water and strawberry scented soap, Clary stepped out. Clearing the moisture off the mirror, she ran a brush through her fiery red curls. Drying off, she ran to her room. Checking her phone, she found a text from Isabelle.

_'Wear the jeans w/ the white logo on the pocket. And the yellow dragon shirt.' _Going over to her closet, she pulled out the items in question. After putting them on, she looked in the mirror. Examining her shirt, she had to admit it looked hot. Unlike most outfits, it didn't clash with her bright hair. It went quite well, if she said so herself. Picking up the phone, she texted Isabelle.

_'Nice call! See you soon :)' _then a quick, _'ready'_ to Simon.

After brushing her teeth, she made her way down to the kitchen. "Morning Mom; Luke." She greeted, sitting on the barstool.

Her mother turned around, loose strands of bright red hair slipping away from her bun. "And I present to you –" she set the plate down in front of Clary. "_Le Eggs et Bacon a la Jocelyn!"_ Smiling at her mother's goofiness, Clary began eating.

She was down to her last piece of bacon when the doorbell rang. "That's Simon. Bye guys!" Grabbing her bag, and her bacon strip, she opened the door, revealing her dark eyed best friend. She looked him up and down, taking in the blue dark-wash jeans and red button up shirt. A huge step up from his normal worn-out jeans and graphic T-shirt. "Whoa, Si." She closed the door behind herself, racing Simon to his Jeep. "So, spill," She turned excitedly once he started driving. "Why do you look so " she struggled for the right word. "Unlike your normal self? Are you wearing your contacts, too?" Realization dawned on her as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. "_Oh-my-gosh_! Is this all for Isabelle?"

"Maybe," he said tonelessly, not taking his eyes off the road. "Can't a guy completely change his look, without any warning, because he felt like it?"

"No."

A few moments of silence passed before they both laughed. They were still laughing when they got to school. Waving goodbye to Simon, Clary went to her locker. After pulling out her books, she headed in the direction of her first class. On her way there, she bumped into someone. She ended up dropping her books and falling on her butt with an "Ow!". She looked up at the person she'd run into.

Aline Penhallow. Present school slut. Noted mostly for her 3 month on-again-of-again relationship with the school jerk, Jace Wayland. Right now, they were very much on again. The Asian girl looked down at her, smirking in disgust. "Why don't you watch where you're walking, loser?" With a huff, she flipped her black hair over her shoulder and stomped off, her heels clicking loudly against the tile. Grunting, she sat up, beginning to gather her things. When another pair of hands began helping her, she gasped in surprise.

"She's right, you know." He said, standing up with her books in his hands. Clary gulped, then stood as well, shoving the papers into her bag. "You really should be watching where you're walking. It could save your life someday." He handed her the books.

"Well then, tell your girlfriend I'm terribly sorry that I messed up her make-up." Clary glared at him. "Though, it's not my fault she looks like she got gang-banged by a box of crayons." She had no idea where the comment had come from, but she had to admit it was pretty funny.

Jace grinned, staring down at her, his golden eyes piercing into her green ones. As if in a trance, he reached out, behind her head. Clary felt as he pulled the elastic from her hair, then as her hair tumbled to her shoulders. "I was right," he said, handing her the elastic. "You do look better with your hair down."

"Who said I care for your opinion?"

"Oh, feisty are we?" He snickered at her, while she made a move to put her hair up again, but Isabelle stopped her.

"Hey, Clary." She said, totally ignoring the blonde headed boy beside her. "Hey, you look _really good _with your hair down like that." Clary didn't miss the cocky smirk Jace had on.

"Whatever, Izzy. Let's just get to class." Jace held up his arms, a mock-offended look gracing his features.

"Okay, that's it, just forget about Jace, do we?" Isabelle whirled around, seeming to just realize he was there.

"What do you want, Wayland?" She sneered out, her eyes narrowing. Again, Jace held out his hands, in a form of surrender.

"Nothing, _Lightwood."_ He said easily. "Clary and I were just having a little talk, after I graced her with my random act of kindness by helping her pick up her stuff. Oh, and I made her somewhat more presentable, her hair was up before you came." Isabelle looked towards redhead for confirmation.

"I wouldn't particularly call it an act of kindness, due to his track record, but yeah, I guess." Isabelle shrugged, looking back at the boy.

"You know what I said about staying away from my friends, Jace. You're breaking the only rule I set out." Jace raised an eyebrow, and Clary instantly hated him. _I wanna do that._

"And _you_ know what I think of your so called 'rules_'_, Izzy." He reached out to Clary, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "They're more like guidelines." Clary flinched away, tucking that same lock of hair behind her ear. "But whatever, if I must, I'll stay away." He sent one final smile to Clary, then turned away, walking down the hall.

"How do you know him?" She asked her dark haired friend after he was gone. They had settled into their first class, which happened to be English. Jace wasn't in this class, but Simon and Isabelle were.

"Who, Hamlet?" Isabelle asked absently, sidetracked by what the teacher was saying. "I don't." Groaning quietly, Clary rolled her eyes. To this Isabelle laughed. "I'm kidding. Jace, right?" Clary nodded. "Oh, he's my cousin." Clary felt her jaw drop, but she made no move to close it.

"Your_ cousin? _You're related to _him?"_ Amidst her shock, Clary remembered to keep her voice a whisper, so as not to let the teacher hear her. Isabelle nodded, chucking a little.

"Yeah, he moved in a few months ago, and now I get the _pleasure_ to see him every morning." The sarcasm in her voice was obvious. Clary sat back and processed this. Jace, as in Jace Wayland, as in the jerk with the Greek God-like looks, and the amazingly hot smile, was related to her best girl friend.

For the rest of the day, she tried to push her encounter with Jace that morning out of her head, but for some unknown reason, he was everywhere she looked. In the cafeteria; in the hall near her locker; making out with Aline under the tree. She got a great view of _that_ specific moment, when she looked out the window of her second period class. By the end of the day, Clary found herself thinking of his smile.

That _really_ sexy smile.

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><p><strong>Again, first time doing this, so let me know how I did. Is it worth continuing? Review please! <strong>**Also, if anyone's into Maximum Ride, I just rewrote a fic called Love, Life and Music. So check that out. **

**Note - I _did_ just start up another story, so updates should be every other week, depending on homework and what's going on in my life at the moment. I'm pretty sure I'll be updating LLM next week, so HtB should be updated in two weeks, most likely on Saturday, but I'm not sure. **

**So is this story worth continuing? Review?**


	2. Sparkles, Dancing and Questions

**You guys are so awesome! Thanks everyone for all the story/author alerts and favourites, I got like twenty of those, which is awesome, and the reviews. Alright, so apparently I don't suck at third person, like I thought (or maybe I do and no one wanted to tell me. Hmm…) But, here is chapter two. Oh, and the names of the chapters are pretty irrelevant, but I wanted to have **_**a**_** name, so I'm just going to do what they do in Two and a Half Men, and use something that someone says somewhere in the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I really hate doing these things, they are so annoying. But, I own nothing of MI, aside from whatever I happen to make up. **

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><p>"Mom! I'm home!" Clary shouted, closing the door. She looked around, then heard music coming from the basement. Taking off her shoes, she padded her way towards the sounds. Sure enough, she found her mother in her art studio – a room designated strictly towards her mother's artistic needs. Her mom was painting a portrait, dressed in worn-out overalls that had paint stains from previous use. Her striking red hair was pulled away from her face in a ponytail. To conclude the fun scene, some overplayed pop song played loudly from the radio place on a stool.<p>

"Oh, hey Clary." Jocelyn turned to look at her. Even with the smears of bright primary coloured paint on her face, her mother was somehow _still_ beautiful. Luke had told Clary multiple times that the two of them were almost identical, but she never really believed him. She just couldn't see it. "Want to grab a brush? I could use some company." Clary shook her head.

"I've got a bunch of homework to do. Just came to say hi." As a new song came on, Jocelyn went back to her painting. Clary went up the stairs, laughing at the image of her mother singing off-key, dancing along with the song. Such a dork.

Sitting down on her bed, she finally decided to start on her homework. Pulling her math textbook out, she opened to the assigned page. She looked at the question, tapping her pencil against the page. Her thoughts wandered away from the Pythagorean theorem and towards Jace, as they had been doing for the past few days. Ever since their run-in the week before, Clary couldn't help but think about him.

He was clearly attractive – no, that couldn't be the word for it. Jace looked like a _god_. And Clary knew that he knew that. It was his attitude that had Clary so intrigued; the way he carried himself so confidently. Part of her was wondering what he saw in Aline. Maybe it was one of those I'm-hot-and-you're-hot-so-let's-go-out type thing. Aline would totally go for something like that, just so she could brag about Jace to other people. After she settled back into her homework, the time flew by. She had just finished when her mother walked in.

"Hey honey. Isabelle is here. She should be up in a minute."

"Oh right!" Clary had totally forgotten about Izzy's visit.

"And Clary, you never told me about your date last night how was it?" Clary groaned loudly.

"_Mom,_ you know I was with Simon. It wasn't a date. We were watching scary movies. _Dracula _and _Frankenstein._ That's it." Izzy snorted, appearing at Clary's doorway.

"And she wonders why I call her a nerd." She said to herself. Clary sent her a glare.

"I'm going out with Luke tonight." Jocelyn told the two of them. "Don't wait up." Leaving with a wink, the door closed.

"Luke must be the best step-dad ever!" Isabelle said after she had left. Clary shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet he had given her. "What? You don't like him?"

"Huh? No that's not it. He's really cool, and he really likes my mom." Clary looked up at her blue eyed friend. "She really likes him too. It's just…" she tried to word it right. "He's not my dad. I mean, he might as well be, but I just… I miss my dad sometimes." Clary blinked, looking back at the blanket.

"So…" Izzy quickly changed the topic. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Uh…" Clary fiddled distractedly with her bracelet. "It's about Jace. About him being your cousin. Why didn't I know that?" Clary was slightly hurt, but also slightly curious, because she had only seen him at the Lightwood house a few times. She had assumed he was just visiting Alec: Izzy's older brother.

"I dunno, you never asked. I didn't think it – he – was that important.

"You didn't think that telling your _best friend_ that Jace Wayland lives with you was important?

"Don't think you're the only one, Clary." Isabelle suddenly snapped at her. "I didn't tell _anyone_. And I'm almost positive Jace and Alec didn't say anything either."

"But why?" Clary asked, confusing heavy in her voice. "What difference does it make." Isabelle sighed, staring out the window.

"Have you _seen_ Jace? Have you seen the way he's got every girl in the school after him? If I let anyone know I've been forced to live with him, everyone would want to be my friend, just to get half a shot at Jace." Looking back at Clary, she continued. "I didn't think you'd be like that, but Jace has dated every one of my old friends, and then they stopped talking to me after he dumped them, as if it's my fault he's an asshole. I didn't want that to happen to you, so I didn't say anything." Clary totally understood after that.

"I'm sorry about what happened with your friends." She said. "But trust me, I don't date jerks. And Jace is like, the king of jerks everywhere." Izzy smiled at her words, reaching and encasing Clary in a tight hug.

"So, on the topic of you dating; jerks are totally out. Who's still left on that list, then? Cause girl, you need a man, like yesterday. What about that guy in English, Conner? He's cute, oh! Or that guy in –" Clary tuned out her friend, turning on the TV.

.o.O.o. .x.X.x. .o.O.o.

'_J.C. honey, I'm getting you out of here…' _Jace looked at the small golden box in his hands. This was the box he'd found in his room back in Alicante, before his mother had died. The night before, she had entered his room, effectively waking him up.

_The door creaked open, and Jonathan's instincts immediately awoke. His eyes snapped open, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side, preparing for an attack if necessary. "Calm down, kiddo. It's just me." Jace's further examining of the silhouette in the doorway. It wasn't until she sat down on the end of his bed the Jonathan could see her face. "Jonathan, what did Valentine want form you today?"_

That brought Jace to another flashback, one of him in the training room, his step-father asking him to Change, then beating him when he refused.

"Jace?" A know on the door snapped Jace out of his trip down memory lane. "Are you in there?"

"Uh… yeah, come in." Jace quickly tucked the ring and the chain under his shirt. He looked up at Alec.

"Everyone's gone out," the blue-eyed boy said. A few years ago, Jace would've taken the sentence lightly, and the two boys would race downstairs to play video games or to train. Once Ale c told Jace he was gay, Jace had spent some time avoiding the boy. Alec confronted him, telling Jace that he had, in fact gotten over his feelings. Now, Jace understood that all he wanted to do was hang out.

"Yeah, and..?" Jace questioned.

"I was thinking of inviting Magnus over. I didn't really want you to feel left out so I thought that maybe –" Jace decided to have a little fun.

"No, Alec, we've been over this. I would not like to join in on you and Magnus' _quality time_ together. Sorry, but I don't swing that way."

"Don't worry, Jace. I wouldn't dare give up having Magnus all to myself. Not even _you're_ worth that." Jace spun around.

"What did you want?"

"I thought you should come with us. We were going to Pandemonium." Jace considered this for a few seconds, before shrugging.

"I'm okay here, go with Magnus if you –" the doorbell cut him off. Alec shot him a glance before leaving the room. Jace pulled out the ring again.

'_Sit at home all night, or go get wasted by some Mundie drinks. Damn, I'm losing my touch.'_ He thought sarcastically. He changed his shirt, going from the loose black tee to a blue-light blue checkered button up, stepping into the hallway. Eight strides later, he was in front of Alec's door. Without knocking, he pushed the door open. Alec and Magnus were against the wall, locked in a very passionate embrace. Jace could just barely see Alec's dark head trapped behind the bright colours that Magnus was wearing.

"Every time I come in here," Jace said slowly, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms and ankles. "I regret it." Magnus and Alec snapped apart. Magnus' hands went to his hips and he watched Alec shift uncomfortably.

"I thought you said you didn't want to come." Alec said to Jace, clearly irritated.

"I did," Jace answered, examining his nails. "And then I changed my mind." Magnus clapped his hands excitedly, resembling a child on Christmas morning.

Jace took a moment to look him over. His black hair had been gelled, and then looked as if he had ran his fingers through it a few times, making it spike up. The tips nearest to his forehead had been dyed red, making an almost devil-like halo appear around his head. His green eyes were outlined with a thick line of eyeliner, making them stand out. He had on a white button up shirt, one – Jace thought – he had surely added sparkles to, and a pair a red skinny jeans with rips down the legs. Jace could spot remnants of lipstick on his lips, but it was faded. After sparing a glance at Alec's neck, the lipstick theory was confirmed.

"What's this," Jace asked curiously. "The sparkly Magnus Bane, looking almost… normal? I'm shocked."

"Oh, this." The oldest boy gestured towards his outfit. "This was for Ali's sake. I got a new coat though." Jace looked, seeing the long black trench coat hanging off the side of Alec's bed.

"Uh… Jace," Alec had been silent, but now he spoke. "We're leaving now, are you coming or not?"

"I'll go, even though I may become quiet the distraction from the your time together. I mean, look at me."

"Don't get too full of yourself, Blondie, Alikins is all mine." As if to prove it, he wrapped his arms around Alec, planning a kiss on the back of his neck.

"Alight, before the two of you start something I'd rather not see, can we go?" Jace asked impatiently, tapping his foot.

"Jace, go screw yourself." Alec broke from Magnus's hold, shoving past Jace and out of the room.

Jace stared after him. "What crawled up his ass and died?"

Magnus grabbed his coat. "You could try to be less of an asshole to him, you know. He's still really sensitive about coming out and everything; you being a jerk isn't helping at all." Jace rolled his eyes. The two of them headed downstairs where Alec was standing with his arms crossed. His back was against the wall, and he was glaring on the floor.

"You shouldn't scowl, darling." Magnus said, lifting up the dark-haired boys chin. "Your face will get stuck like that. And we wouldn't want to ruin your pretty face now, would we?" Alec glared at him, but walked out. "I will never understand that boy." Magnus said thoughtfully.

Jace put a hand on his back. "Come on lover boy, let's go."

.o.O.o. .x.X.x. .o.O.o.

Pandemonium was alive and pumping; lights flashing and the music pounding when the trio got there. Once they were inside, Jace looked around. Magnus and Alec had run off somewhere: either to find someplace secluded, or to the dance floor.. Jace headed over to the bar.

Since it was an all ages club, the menu consisted of mostly pop, flavoured water and low-alcohol drinks. Of course, if you knew the right people, the bartender would likely slip something together for you.

"Hey Scooter," Jace looked up. Kaelie, the cute brunette bartender, was standing behind the counter. Jace had dated her a few times; relationships that had lasted a combined total of 23 days. Now, they were more sex-buddies then anything; when Kaelie gets dumped, Jace was there; when Jace was bored, Kaelie was there. She leaned over the counter, giving him a light peck on the lips.

"I get off in 10 minutes," she whispered. "You up for a quickie?" Her voice was hopeful, and Jace almost went for it.

"I have a girlfriend, Kaelie." He pointed out. As he said this, she smiled.

"Like that's ever stopped you before." Another person called her over, so she left, kissing Jace's cheek.

"Jace?" At the sound of his name, Jace spun around, stray strands of too-long hair falling into his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Do you mean in the literal sense, or just in general?" He asked, arching a brow. Izzy glared at him, so he went on. "Well, _literally_, I'm just sitting here. I was talking to Kaelie, but she had to go. Generally, me, Magnus and Alec are here." He glanced at the redhead beside her. "Your turn."

"Izzy dragged me here." Clary said, tugging at the bottom of her short-shorts. She met Jace's stare awkwardly. Isabelle must have seen someone, because she ran off, onto the dance floor.

"Doesn't she have a boyfriend?" Clary asked, watching as her friend danced with a cute light haired guy. They were pressed against each other, her back against his front, moving against each other in a way that would be rated at least 14A.

"Raphael doesn't care what she does," Jace answered waved the bartender over. "As long as people know _he's_ screwing her, he doesn't have 'rules' or whatever." Jace winced at how harsh his voice sounded. Clary noticed his tone as well.

"You don't like Raphael?"

"He's an arrogant bastard. Izzy can be a total slut at times, but she deserves better than him." Clary studied him as he ordered his drink: a mix of fruit something and alcohol. The bartender winked at him, turning to prepare his drink. "Do you want something?" She shook her head.

"Since when do you drink?" She asked after he'd gulped down half of his glass. Jace shrugged, swirling the plastic stir stick around in the glass. There was a green grape stabbed into the end of the stick. "Can I have that?" She asked suddenly, pointing at the grape. Jace looked at her, his gold eyes meeting her green ones. There was something in his eyes, what looked like flecks of red.

He lifted the toothpick in his fingers, hovering it in front of her face. She put her lips around it, biting off the grape and chewing a few times before swallowing. "Thanks." Jace smiled, finishing the rest of his drink, just as the bartender came back.

"Hey Scooter." She said. Clary studied her. She was definitely older then he was, judging by the fact that she was working in a bar. So she had to be at least nineteen. "My shift ends now; do you want anything really quick?" Jace shook his head, leaning forwards on his elbows.

"There's nothing you could get me from the bar…" he whispered. "But maybe if you'd come over to _this_ side of the counter," he hooked his fingers around the zipper on her sweater, tugging it down slowly. "You could be of more assistance." The brunette smiled, a toothy smile that lit up her face, revealing perfect whites.

Clary hated her instantly.

The girl came over to Jace, kissing him heavily before strutting over to the dance floor. Jace stood up, sending a glance at Clary. "Izzy would start bitching, and I'd feel like a douche for just leaving you. Are you alright?"

"Go dance Jace. I'll be fine here." To prove her point, she ordered a pop, glancing across the counter at a cute guy. Jace left, going and disappearing with the girl, Kaelie. The guy that had been watching Clary stood and came over, sitting down next to her, in the spot Jace had just left.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting here all alone?" he asked, his voice smooth. Clary looked at him. He was cute; she had to admit, with his curly brown hair that fell into his deep brown eyes. His features showed he was at least eighteen, as did the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.

"Are you going to do something about that?" Clary asked, attempting to sound like Kaelie. It seemed to have worked, because the boy smiled, standing and offering his hand.

"Dance with me?" Clary took his hand, following him to the dance floor. From her spot, she could see Jace and the girl he was with dancing. Jace caught her eye, and something flashed behind them as he took it the guy behind her. Clary suddenly had an idea, wrapping her hands around the guy's neck, swaying her hips to the beat of the music. The guy put his hands on her waist, pulling her closer towards him. "What's your name?"

"Clary." She answered, swiveling around so her back was to his front, her arm looped behind her around his neck.

"Jonathon." The two of them danced a little more, before Jonathon spun Clary around, taking her by the wrist back to the bar. He got a drink: something that was defiantly all alcohol. After two of the drinks, he turned to Clary. "So, Clary, why don't you and I head someplace quiet, so we can get to know each other?"

Clary tried to wrench her hand away, but his grip was too strong. She looked around for Isabelle, but the flashing lights made it hard to see anything. "I'd rather stay in here, let's talk here… or go dance." Jonathon's gaze turned angry. There were suddenly arms around her stomach, and lips being pressed to the back of her neck.

"Sorry I'm late, babe. I couldn't get a cab." She recognized the voice, but she didn't understand what he was doing. "I hope you didn't miss me too much." Clary turned towards him, smiling up at Jace.

"Not too much," she agreed, pressing her lips to his. They kissed for almost half a second, surely to make it look realistic.

"Come on, let's dance." Jace took her hand, leading her towards the dance floor and away from Jonathon.

"Thank you so much," she said as she put her arms around his neck. Jace didn't say anything, but kept staring behind her at Jonathon.

"It's fine; just promise me you'll stay away from him, alright?" Clary nodded, with no intentions of ever seeing him again. Jace let go of her, going back into the crowd. Isabelle found Clary, waving goodbye to the light haired guy she had been with all night.

"His name is Meliorn. I got his number, and we're going out next Friday."

"Can we go home?" Clary asked, still feeling kind of wary about running into Jonathon. Isabelle looked at her curiously, but agreed.

"We should get Jace and the others." Clary agreed, and together they rounded up Jace – who was still watching her very closely – Alec and Magnus.

Throughout the ride home, Clary found herself wondering about Jace, as usual. Whatever questions she had, she could find an answer to: _why did he do that, it's not like he cares? Maybe he just didn't want to see someone get hurt. Why did his eyes look red that one time?_ It was probably the lighting. There was only one question that kept eating at her brain, one she couldn't find the answer to.

_Why can't I get him out of my head?_

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><p><strong>And you have chapter two! My fingers are cold, and I'm not wearing socks. Well, that's Canada for you.<strong>

**Anyways, review please. I know this chapter was a bit rushed at the end, but I wanted to get it up, but I didn't really have any idea of how to end it. Was it as horrible as I think it was? REVIEW!**

**See you in two weeks! :)**


	3. Cappaccinos, Hogwarts and Aliens

**Hey everyone, sorry for the wait. You should all go and thank Zanna Shadow, right now, because ([s]he?) messaged me and told me that I hadn't updated in a while. And if anyone cares to know why, it was because I had a project to get finished –we had to make this island thing – and my ISU to finish. Then I got sick, so I just wasn't in the mood. But I finished it – yay! **

**Disclaimer: Idiotic-Freak owns nothing on MI, only any original ideas.**

**PS: I think I'm going to stop doing those – you all KNOW I don't own anything. **

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><p>"Hey, Clare-Bear." Clary looked up from her book. Simon was hovering above her, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He slid down the wall beside her, glancing at the book in her hands. "Harry Potter, really?" He said.<p>

"Shut up, Si. You know I love this book. The whole series is freaking amazing."

"Yeah, you know you would totally be writing letters to Hogwarts for acceptance. If you could, of course." Clary smiled at him. He was wearing his grey 'I WANNA SEX YOU UP' shirt, with his trademark worn out jeans with a hole on the knee.

"What's with the getup? No more looking all fancy for Isabelle?" Clary asked, closing her book.

Simon shrugged, readjusting his glasses. "Nah, I mean, I still really like her. It's just…"

"You have no more button-up shirts?"

"Exactly." Simon grinned at her. "And besides, it's not really my thing. I want her to like me for _me,_ not because I'm dressing nicely."

"She is my best friend," Clary held up her hands at Simon's look of mock-hurt. "I mean, right after you, of course. But I could introduce you if you want; talk to her about you or something?"

Simon shook his head vigorously. "No way! If you ask her, then she'd _know_ I like her and then it would —"

"Who would know you like her?" A voice said from above them. Clary looked up, seeing her blue-eyed friend standing tall.

"Hey, Izzy." Clary shot a glance at Simon, who had scrambled to his feet. "Uh, we were talking about this girl Simon is crushing on." Isabelle looked intrigued.

"Oh, do I know her?"

"Uh…" Simon scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Yeah, probably." The bell rang at that moment, signalling the start of third period. Clary picked up her bag, waving a quick goodbye to Isabelle and Simon. Clary continued down the hallway to her Art class. Entering the classroom, she sat down at an empty table. She placed her bag by her feet, rummaging through it and pulling out her pencil case, and her sketchpad. Sometime ago, she had gotten bored during Math class, and had decided to doodle the word 'Art' in large graffiti-type letters on the first page. The next class, she had coloured it in.

The teacher began his lesson, talking about the newest project. "This is a major project; one that I expect you all to put a lot of hard work into. It will be marked, and is worth a—" He was interrupted by the door opening. Clary didn't look up at first, but when she heard the familiar voice muttering an apology, her head snapped up.

Jace.

"Terribly sorry, sir." He said, looking slightly out of breath. "I was speaking with Madame Dorothea." Jace smiled again, and the teacher, Mr Caine, waving him away.

"Very well. You may be seated." Jace looked around, as did Clary. She groaned quietly, realizing the only open seat was next to her. He crossed the room, placing his backpack at his foot.

"So we meet again." He whispered, so quietly Clary wasn't sure he'd said anything at all.

"Your assignment is to create a 750 word biography on your partner, including pictures, portraits, and anything you may find interesting about him or her."

Aline Penhallow raised her hand. She had been sending Clary glares since Jace had sat down. "Do we get to pick our partners?"

"Sorry, Aline." Mr Caine said softly. "But I'd like to use this assignment as another introductory project. Your partner will be the person you are currently sitting beside. I'd like you to get to know this person, and find out the following things…" a sheet was handed out, a list of things that were required. Clary found herself sneaking a glance at Jace, who was still reading the sheet. He let out a small yawn, bringing his hand up to cover it.

"You may begin at once."

Aline immediately got up, crossing over to Clary and Jace's table. "Hey cutie," she said, letting one of her fingers run across his cheek. "What do you say we switch partners: Clary can work with mine, and then you and I can_ get to know each other a little better_?"

Jace raised his hand, and Clary pointedly looked away. "No thanks, Aline." He said, pushing her away gently. "Now if you'll excuse me, Clary and I have a project to get started on." A gasp slipped from Clary's lips. Aline was just a surprised as Clary. In fact, a large portion of the class was quite shocked. Aline pouted angrily, then stomped back to her table. Jace rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded like 'chicks these days'. He turned to Clary.

"You don't seem to want anything to do with me, so we might as well just do the bio part by ourselves, then meet up and do those pictures later on. We could give —"

"No, Jace." Clary said. "Its fine, we should do it together. That was the point of this whole thing right?" Jace looked up, his golden eyes locking with Clary's green ones.

"Okay." The two of them began working, breaking down what they could cover on certain days. They had just finished dividing it when the bell rang. Clary finished packing her things, mumbling a small goodbye to Jace.

_I get to work with Jace!_

.o.O.o. .x.X.x. .o.O.o.

Clary was still thinking about Jace and the project the next day. It was lunch time now, but she wasn't very hungry. Simon noticed this.

"What's up with you?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"I just keep wondering why he picked me instead of Aline." Clary admitted. Her eyes looked over to where Jace was sitting; Aline was perched on his lap, but talking to Alec, who showed a mild disinterest.

"Maybe it's cause he isn't a total douche-bag." Simon suggested. Clary looked at him. "No wait. I take that back."

"Hey," Isabelle sat down, placing her tray on the table. "I heard you got partnered with Jace for that art thing. Tough love, huh?" Clary shrugged. "Hey Simon."

Simon flinched, as if surprised she knew his name. "Where's Raphael?" Isabelle frowned, her eyebrows scrunching together.

"I haven't seen him."

"I saw Jace talking to him this morning," he pitched.

"That's probably what did it, then; Jace being an ass." Clary blinked. Simon and Isabelle began discussing something along the lines of Disney movies and zombies, and Clary got up. She dug through her bag, pulling out the note paper.

"Hey, where are you going?" Simon asked, looking at Clary confusedly.

"I just have to give Jace something, for our project."

Isabelle stared at her, and then extended a hand. "Here, give it to me." She offered, "I can give it to him; save you from actually having to _speak_ with the bastard." Simon glanced at Isabelle.

"What? How do you know him?" Isabelle's cheeks flared a bright red. She stumbled out an answer:

"He-he's Alec's friend, remember. We've seen each other enough times to be minor acquaintances."

"Yet, you still hate him." The two were so into their conversation, they hadn't noticed Clary leaving. The redhead found herself walking across the cafeteria, towards the table Jace and Aline was at. Alec looked up, the first to acknowledge her presence.

"Uh… Jace?" Her voice was quiet, but had managed to stop any conversation throughout the table. The group looked up, all eyes piercing onto her. Only a few of the faces she recognized: Alec, Isabelle's brother; Jace and Aline; Raphael, Isabelle's boyfriend; and Sebastian Verlac, Aline's stepbrother.

"Hey, Clary." Alec said in his quiet voice. Clary let a smile tease at her mouth.

"What do you want? Jace and I have things we could be doing." Aline spoke, running a hand down Jace's chest. "Of course, our time is limited now that you're his partner." Aline was probably glaring, but with all the makeup that was caked on her face, Clary couldn't tell. "Of course, there's no way he would be having any fun with you, I mean, he's got me. Right, Jacey?"

"Slut!" Somebody coughed. Maia Roberts appeared by Clary's side.

Clary couldn't help but take in the girl. Her dark skin and matching deep hazel eyes were beautiful. Her high cheekbones and heart shaped face just made her all the more stunning. Her hair was up in tiny braids, pinned away from her face with only a few loose braids hanging down to her shoulders. Maia looked at Jace. "Hey, asshole."

"Maia," Jace looked annoyingly calm. His hand was still placed on Aline's leg, where she was sitting on his lap. "Clary, what is it?" Clary snapped out of her little daze. She reached into her pocket, pulling out the note and handing it to him. Their fingers brushed, and Clary instantly pulled back as if he'd burned her. He unfolded it, away from Aline's wandering eyes. After he'd read it, he slipped it into his pocket, nodding once to Clary.

"What did it say? Advice on how to pick up another girl?" Maia asked, crossing her arms. "One who _isn't_ a stripper?" Aline stood up, getting in Maia's face.

"At _my_ boyfriend loves me. Whereas yours just loves screwing you."

"Aline," Alec hissed. "That's enough." Jace stood up.

"You shouldn't talk," Maia continued as if Alec hadn't said anything. "I'm sure _a lot_ of guys love screwing you. Only difference: I'm not a total slut, and sleeping with ten different guys, one of which you managed to turn gay. Congrats on that, really." Aline looked livid, and was about to pounce on Maia, but Jace had an arm around her, preventing her from advancing.

"Alright, Maia, I think you should leave before you start something you won't be able to finish on your own." Aline nodded, turning quickly and kissing Jace, unnecessarily. When she pulled back, she turned to Maia.

"Remember who he was kissing when he was 'dating' you. When he said he liked you, he was really thinking of me. All those dates with you, he was —"

"Aline," Jace said. "Enough." He locked eyes with Clary, who suddenly felt two inches tall. He patted his pocket, "Alright." She nodded, backing away slowly. To her surprise, Isabelle and Simon were right there.

"I'm assuming Maia and Aline were going at it again?" Simon asked. Clary nodded, picking up her bag.

"Let's go, I gave Jace what I needed to give him." Clary rushed away, not looking back to see if her friends were following.

.o.O.o. .x.X.x. .o.O.o.

"Hey, Clary?" The redhead looked at Simon. "Who would win it a fight: aliens and telekinetic or wizards?" Clary laughed at the randomness of the question. "I say wizards."

"Well, it depends – would one of these wizards be Harry Potter, Dumbledore are Gandalf the White?"

"Would it have to be Gandalf the _White _specifically? Would Grey suffice?"

"No, it must be Gandalf, post Two Towers."

"Oh, well, then no. Harry, Dumbledore nor Gandalf is a part of the battle."

"In that case, aliens and telekinetic. The wizards aren't real, or properly trained at Hogwarts or in Middle Earth." Simon frowned, pondering over what she had just said. Just as an idea popped into Simon's head, Clary's phone buzzed in her pocket. "Hello?" She answered, holding a finger up to Simon.

"It's Jace." Something in Clary's stomach fluttered. "Can we meet up soon – like twenty minutes? Are you busy? I think we should get started." Clary didn't want to leave Simon, but she knew he was right; they needed to start on the project. They agreed to meet up at the coffee shop, then start with the biography reports. Clary hung up, looking at Simon apologetically, collecting her things and leaving his house.

"May the force be with you!" He shouted to her, standing in the doorway with his hand raised, his index finger spread apart from his connected middle and ring finger, his pinkie spread away. Clary giggled at how much of a dork he was. She swung her bag over her shoulder, walking in the direction of the coffee shop.

On her way, she ended up thinking about Jace, and why he had chosen to work with her instead of Aline; and why he had come to her rescue at Pandemonium. _Maybe he wasn't all that bad,_ she thought. That thought was shut down, however, when she recalled the times he had intentionally made her or Simon' book fall in the hallways.

_Nope, _she thought defiantly, _Jace Wayland is and always will be an asshole. _

.o.O.o. .x.X.x. .o.O.o.

The weather had changed by the time Clary arrived at the coffee shop. It was colder now, the wind blowing her hair across her face. Jace was standing near a window, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. He was staring at a crack in the sidewalk when Clary approached him.

"Boo!" He didn't flinch, or even show that he had heard her. Clary frowned as he lifted his head to meet her eyes.

"Nice try." Clary rolled her eyes, and allowed him to lead her inside. They sat at a table near the back of the small cafe. Clary placed her bag on the seat beside her. Digging through it, she pulled out the sheet Mr Caine had given out with the questions on it. Her and Jace had highlighted half of the questions in yellow — the easiest and most basic of the questions; a third of the remaining half in pink — the questions that involved some getting-to-know-you; and the remainder in blue — the questions that were quite personal, and would be left till the end. Clary had left the very last one blank.

_Q:26 - What does the portrait of your partner say to you? What was the message you were trying to tell others through the portrait?_

Clary had decided she would leave that till the very end, some time when Jace wasn't with her. A waitress came over, handing out menus and shamelessly flirting with Jace. Clary was almost tempted to let her know he had a girlfriend, but she didn't; a) the waitress may have thought Clary and Jace were together — which they definitely _weren't_!; and b) Clary remembered the way he had acted with the bartender at Pandemonium: his current availability status hadn't changed, whether he was dating Aline or not. So she kept her mouth shut, and took out her notebook, doodling small hearts in the margin.

"Thinking of me, Fray?" Her head snapped up, seeing Jace with his eyebrows wiggling. He reached out, taking her pencil out of her hand and writing J.W in each of the hearts. He winked at her, ordering a medium cappuccino. He looked at Clary expectantly, and she ordered the same, except dressed hers with whipped cream and caramel sauce. The waitress left to place their orders.

"Does having a girlfriend mean _anything_ to you? Anything at all?" She asked as his eyes followed her ass back to the counter and she leaned across it. Now his eyes slowly met hers, an eyebrow raised.

"What do you mean; is that even on the sheet?" He was utterly confused, and lifted the sheet, scanning it. Once he was done, he stared at her.

"Can we just start this; you made me leave Simon."

"Why do you hang out with that dork, anyway? If anything, I saved you from torturing yourself further."

"How do you figure? I went from hanging with a so-called 'dork' — who happens to be my _best friend_, by the way — to being here with you and your oversized ego. Honestly, I don't see things progressing." Jace stared at her, opening his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the waitress bringing their drinks. He paid for both of them — against Clary's wishes; she could have - _would have_ - paid for hers.

"I get off in a few minutes, you wanna hang out somewhere, cutie?" The Asian girl asked. Clary tried to picture Aline, but couldn't. This girl had dyed her hair, so it was a dark brown with pink stripes.

"He's busy," Clary suddenly spoke, wanting to get this thing over with. "So, if you'll excuse us." The waitress

left, giving Clary a dirty look.

"I wouldn't come back here, if I were you. She looks like she would spit in anything you order." Clary nodded, and they began filling out the questions.

Half an hour later, they had finished the yellow questions.

Clary had learned that his actual name was Jonathon Christopher Wayland, something she never would have guessed by herself. She had always assumed his name was actually 'Jace'. Turns out, his mother had nicknamed him that when he was younger as a result of his initials – J.C. He spoke Spanish fluently, and was just talking it this semester to pass the time. When Clary had asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, Jace had hesitated, taking a sip of his coffee and stirring it unnecessarily a few times before speaking:

"I don't know, whatever comes up. I'm really just trying to get through high school first." Clary wrote that down, taking another sip of her coffee. It was cold now, but she chugged the rest of it down anyways.

They were about to start with the pink questions, when Jace's phone rang. "Hello?" Clary drew a few more hearts in the margin, trying not to listen to his conversation. After a few minutes of him arguing with whoever was on the other line, he snapped his phone shut. "I have to go," he said slowly, still staring down at his phone.

"Yeah, okay. Should we meet up again tomorrow?" She asked, packing up her things too. Jace shrugged, thinking deeply about something.

"I'll see you at school." He said, then rushed out the door, too fast for Clary's eyes to track.

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><p><strong>This chapter sucks, in my opinion. But I promise chapter 4 will be better. Hopefully.<strong>

**Thought of the day: If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what's baby oil made from?**

**Can I get 7 reviews, that would actually make my day.**


	4. Learning to Control It

**Hey faithful readers! I can't even begin to say how sorry I am for this taking forever. I just want to let everyone know how much I hate school. And being sick. SMH. But it's a long weekend for a few days, Family Day and all, so I thought I could get something in.**

**EDIT – February 19th, 2012 – Alright, like I said before, ideas change. And the more I wrote this out the more it sounded like the actual books. (No, seriously, they were pretty much the same.) So, I'm having second thoughts on some aspects of the plot line, so, until I get that settled out, updates will be quite slow. Anyways, I haven't changed anything major so far, so continue to read, but if anything changes, I'll let you know. **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All MI characters and quotes belong to Cassandra Clare. I own nothing but the plot and anything I make up.**

The images rushed behind his eyes; flashes of lights, the faint smell of blood, a piercing scream. Sweat shone on his skin, dripping from his forehead down to the back of his neck and across his bare chest. His fists were clenched at his sides, blood pooling where his nails had dug through his palms.

"No…" he whispered through clenched teeth, though he was still unconscious. "Please…"

_He couldn't tell where he was; somewhere in the middle of a forest, most likely in Alicante. Jace recognized the scene before him; his tenth birthday. His step-father had taken him into a forested and forced him to run, a duo of dogs chasing behind him. He had run for hours, hiding behind bushes and boulders or climbing trees. The image changed, and Jace knew he was in a house. It wasn't the house he and his mother had lived in prior to her marriage to Valentine. Though he couldn't see it, Jace knew he was in the Morgenstern mansion. The library, to be exact. It was exactly the way he'd remembered, row upon dusty row of books. He saw _

_Jace saw his mother, her dark hair pulled back._

He smiled in his sleep, shifting his weight. The scene played on, one of the happier moments in his childhood. Then the images began to ripple and shimmer, like a reflection in a pond being disrupted by a rock. The next scene was one he remembered all too well; one he'd tried to forget.

_Jace watched as Valentine dragged his mother into the room._

"No…" Jace wanted to stop it. He wanted to peel the memory from his brain and burn it. Maybe that would change the past.

"_Would you like to Change, Jonathon?" Young Jace watched helplessly as his mother was pushed in front of him. He screamed at him, but was quickly silenced with a slap to the cheek. His mother hushed it soothingly from her place on the ground._

Jace thrashed around again, his bed sheets tangling themselves around his shoulders. Jace let out a shout, tugging and scratching at the unseen strangler. The door to his bedroom cracked open, Maryse poking her head into the room. She saw her adoptive son, sweating and screaming. He was having another nightmare.

"Get it off, please, get it off!" He screamed in his sleep. Maryse rushed to his side, putting her hand on his chest. He mumbled something she couldn't understand.

"Jace, wake up. Shh, it's okay honey." He suddenly shouted in pain, and opened his eyes. His eyes were red; his hands moving around underneath the sheets. Maryse reached out before he tried to burn away the sheets. It had happened once before.

Jace's eyes searched the room frantically. A hand was place on his cheek. He flinched visibly before his eyes snapped open again, his breathing was heavy, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Are you alright?" She asked slowly, helping him pull the sheets away from his shoulders. Jace tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it stung. "What was it this time?"

"It's always the same:" Jace said slowly, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. "I see my mom, and _he's_ there, but it never gets passed a certain point." Maryse placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you going back to sleep? Or would you like some tea?" Jace accepted the tea, knowing he wouldn't be able to get to sleep any other way. The two of them padded down the stairs and into the kitchen Maryse started up the kettle, rummaging the cupboards for herbs. Jace pulled up a chair, leaning his arms on the counter and resting his forehead on his arms.

"Remember to apologize to Max; you woke him up." Jace didn't look at her, but he raised his head, staring at his hands.

"This bloody kettle isn't working." Maryse muttered several minutes later. Jace asked her to put the cold water into the cups; he could do it himself. Maryse brought over the two cups, setting them on the counter in front of him. Jace cupped his hands around his mouth, blowing a breath of cold air into his palms, and then gripped the cups. After a moment's concentration, Jace saw a thin strip of steam rise from the water. Once he was sure they were hot, he pulled his hands away, blowing his hands again.

"Be careful, it's hot." He joked. Maryse smiled, dropping the teabags in. Three minutes later, she took them out, dropping the used bags into the sink. Jace brought the cups to his lips. The tea was bitter, but oddly relaxing. Jace let it cool for a moment before taking another sip.

"What was your dream about?" Maryse asked. Jace stared into the dark green liquid, as if searching for an answer.

"I told you: I'm training, and Valentine wants me to Change. He get my mother and tells me he'll –" Jace choke on his words. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "It never gets far enough for me to see her – I always end up waking somehow – but I know what happened." He took another sip.

"That's probably the worst part – knowing. Do you wish you could forget?" His tea was cold now, but he gulped it down anyways it down anyways.

"Thanks for the tea, Maryse." He said, completely avoiding the question. Jace stood, placing his cup in the sink and rushing up to his room before Maryse could say anything.

Eventually, sleep came to Jace, but morning came too soon for his liking. He woke up, spending his entire shower in a restless, half-sleep state. For a moment, Jace was sure he had dozed off standing up. He got dressed as usual, but had to return to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror, seeing his eyes were still glowing. He shut his eyes, breathing in and out slowly trying to calm down. After several minutes, he reopened his eyes, staring into the mirror. Bright crimson irises stared back at him.

Groaning loudly, he turned on the faucet, sticking his head underneath the icy water. Jace could feel the water run through his hair, cooling the burn on his forehead.

"Hey Jace, hurry up!" Isabelle called, her voice sounding from behind the closed door. "Hurry up, I need to—oh, I thought you were brushing your teeth. Sorry!" Jace lifted his head quickly, accidentally knocking his head against the tap.

"Dammit Iz. Would it kill you to knock?" Jace snapped, grabbing a towel and rubbing it over his head. His eyes were back to normal now; gold, but with small unnoticeable flecks of red.

Jace was having a day. He was restless and anxious and was ready to snap at the next person that looked at him the wrong way. Sadly, that person was Clary. It was right after second period, the lunch bell had rang and Jace was trying to get outside. Clary had bumped into him, dressed in her gym uniform. Her face was slushed, beads of sweat shining on her forehead.

"Hey Jace, are you okay?" She frowned, "You're looking kinda green."

"I'm fine," he said, maybe a little too harshly. He tried to get passed her, but she stepped in front of him.

"Are you sure?" Jace felt his hand twitch. He stared at it for a moment. "Jace?" He didn't notice that he had moved; didn't realize he had even reacted. But the next thing he knew, Clary was on the floor, clutching her arm and looking up at him. He blinked, processing what he'd done. Clary's friends came for assistance. As she let her friends help her up, Clary never looked away from Jace. He whispered an apology, moving passed the crowd and out of the building.

He inhaled the cool air, and then checked his watch. 11:00 – one hour till Jace had to be back in class. He walked around the perimeter of the school, into the forest that bordered the north-eastern wing. About fifty paces in, Jace looked to make sure no one was around to see him. After waiting several moments, he stripped his shirt, shoving it into his backpack. He held his wrist, the cold metal of his bracelet beginning to shine through his fingers. He felt his Change begin, and took off further into the trees.

He ran. He ran till his legs burned. The forest had long since disappeared; Jace realized he was nearly two miles away from the school. Now he was near a river, at a camp site on the south side of town. He picked up a dry stick, gripping it in his palm. A spark ignited, and before he could blink, the stick was burning, a fire emitting from the top of the stick. Jace tossed it into a fire pit, watching it burn out. Checking his watch, Jace decided to return to school, he still had to go to his locker.

He made it back to school with a little over ten minutes to spare. Isabelle and Simon were waiting in the trees when he got back. "I had a feeling I'd find you here." Izzy said slowly. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and Jace had a feeling he would be receiving some long rant about something or other. He shrugged, placing his backpack on the ground. Digging through it, he found his shirt.

"And may I ask _why_ you brought the dork?" His eyes didn't leave Izzy's.

"Can you put your shirt on, _please?" _She huffed, bringing her hand to cover her eyes. It was for effect, Jace knew, because she had seen him without a shirt before: when they were training together, or when one of them would walk into the other in the bathroom. It was nothing new. Nevertheless, Jace dropped to the ground, rummaging through his backpack for his shirt. Once he found it, he pulled it over his head, fixing the collar.

"Why'd you come find me?" He asked Izzy, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Why did you hit Clary?" Simon finally spoke up. Jace quirked an eyebrow.

"First of all, I believe I was speaking to Isabelle. It was rude to interrupt." He looked over his shoulder at Simon. "Secondly, I didn't hit her."

"Then why is she in the nurse's office holding her arm, and everyone is blaming you?"

"Because she fell on her arm," Jace was quickly becoming irritated with the other boy's accusations.

"Because _you hit her_!"

"No, I didn't." Simon stood his ground and looked Jace in the eye. Thankfully, Jace's run had calmed him down, so his eyes showed no signs of his Change.

"I know how you are, Wayland, and Clary isn't one of the whores you're always screwing around with." Jace glared, dropping his backpack and fully turning to face Simon. He could feel the sharp pain in his palm from where his nails dug in to the skin. Isabelle made a move to advance, but Jace stuck out a finger – behind his back and away from Simon's view. A spark ignited from his fingertips, grazing the tip of her shoe. She stopped in her tracks, bending to dust off her boot. Jace moved toward Simon.

"You don't know shit about me, Lewis." Jace said slowly, his voice low. Surprisingly enough, Simon didn't flinch.

"I know you're an arrogant asshole," he said, trying – and not quite succeeding – to match Jace's tone. "I know you think you're greater than God." Jace's eyes narrowed to slits, his hands curling at his sides. "I know what you did to Kaelie."

Jace made a move then. His fist came up, going to Simon's nose. Right before any contact was made; Jace felt a shock in his arm. He winced, retracting his arm and holding his hand up.

"Dammit Iz!" He muttered for the second time that day. He inhaled, smelling the singed fabric of his sleeve.

"What's with your eyes?" Jace blinked a few times, looking away from Simon and making eye contact with Izzy, who nodded. She put a hand on his elbow – otherwise stopping him from going after Simon again – and slipped something into the back pocket of his jeans. He picked up his bag again, sending Simon a look.

"Like I said," Jace's tone was deadly. "You don't know _shit_. Now stay the hell away from me, or next time Izzy won't be there to stop me. Get out of my way." Simon held his hands up in surrender, his prior bravery seemingly gone. As Jace pushed passed him, roughly bumping Simon's shoulder, he heard Simon ask Isabelle:

"What was he talking about; you didn't touch him." Jace didn't have to look back to imagine Izzy shaking her head and sighing.

"Jace has issues. Just leave him alone, Si. I don't want him to hurt you, and I know he can." _She's got _that_ right! _he thought as he walked to his locker. Seeing Sebastian and Aline pressed against the wall. Jace walked up to his locker, seeing Aline turn her head away, so as not to be seen. After acting as if he hadn't seen them, Jace pulled his books out. Closing the locker door, he walked past the couple.

"Do you think he noticed?" Only with his above average hearing was he able to hear her whisper.

"Yeah," Jace said, loud enough that he knew they had heard. "I noticed." Jace didn't feel like dealing with Aline today, so he kept on walking, remembering the note Isabelle had slipped him. He read it now.

_We need to talk. – Clary_

He headed to the nurse's office, seeing Clary sitting on a plastic chair. A row of the chairs were lined against two of the walls. She looked up when he entered. "I see you got my note." She smiled at him. He nodded and walked towards her, sitting in the chair beside her.

"Yeah. Uh, how's the arm?" He gestured to the ice pack she was holding.

"Oh, yeah, it's okay, I guess. It doesn't really hurt anymore." Jace winced, reaching out his hand.

"Here, let me see." Slowly, she extended her hand. Jace grasped it loosely, placing his hand under her arm. He closed his eyes, briefly wondering if he was sure of what he was about to do.

"Jace?" She spoke softly, tilting his head to meet her eyes. Jace inspected the bright green orbs, and couldn't find the hate and fear he had originally thought he would. Instead, he only saw confusion. Confusion, concern, trust.

Jace closed his eyes again, feeling the heat travel through his body, up his arm and out his palm, radiating the immediate area around Clary's bruised arm. After a few moments, Jace removed his hand, seeing that the large bruise that was previously on Clary's arm had faded till it was nothing more than a faint discolouration. Clary also looked at her arm, then back up at Jace, her eyes wide.

"How?" One simple word, but it was asking for so much. That one word was asking for his life, for his story, his trust. Jace didn't know he she was ready to hear that. He didn't know if he was ready to tell her. He stood, shaking his head and ignoring her question.

"I hope your arm feels better." He said slowly, tonelessly. "I'll see you in Art." He turned around, picking his bag up from the chair beside him and exiting the room, ignoring Clary as she called his name behind him.

o.O.o x.X.x o.O.o

She can't understand him. He won't let her. Clary found herself bumping shoulders with students in the crowded hallways between classes as everyone rushed to get to their final class. Clary wasn't looking forward to seeing Jace again, especially after their falling out either that day. He wasn't acting his usual ass-like self, and that only made it harder for her to be angry at him.

Clary caught a flash of gold hair that could only belong to one person, and the voice that accompanied it supported her guess.

"Iz, what do you want me to say? I'm sorry that your boy toy is a wimp?" Clary hid behind a corner, watching Jace and Isabelle. Alec was there too, leaning against the wall, looking very uninterested in the conversation. Clary had never seen the three of them together during school hours, and only a few times when they were all at Izzy's house. Seeing them now was foreign to her.

"He's not my boy toy. He's not my _anything._ But this isn't even about him." Izzy was angry, Clary could tell. "This is about you pissing off everyone around you –"

"What she's trying to say—" Alec's voice was the calmest of the three, even if he was slightly irritated, "is that you can't screw everything up now. I'm not moving away again because you can't control your anger issues." Jace whirled on the older boy, and Clary swore he could see a flash of red in his eyes.

"Then tell her—" he jerked a thumb behind him at Isabelle, "to keep the dork the hell away from me."

"She will. But you have to keep up your end, too, and control your Change. That's key, and we both know it, Jace." Jace shook his head, backing down. Alec patted his shoulder, muttering a final, "and I suggest you calm down before you get to class" before he scooped up his backpack and leaving. Clary slunk into her corner, avoiding being seen by Isabelle as she retreated as well. Jace was the only one left in the small area when she looked back. He was pacing, mumbling things to himself, before he suddenly spun and punched the wall.

Clary gasped, walking out slowly. "You know, I hear talking to yourself is one of the signs that you might be going crazy." Jace didn't turn to look at her, instead leaning his head on the wall, fisting his hands in his hair. Clary walked closer. "What's wrong?"

"How much did you hear?" He asked, still not looking up.

"Everything from Izzy's boy toy." She admitted, then instantly regretted it as Jace groaned. "Are you really going to have to move away?" Jace finally looked at her, his eyes unusually dark. Clary thought of the red that she had seen.

"You'd probably enjoy it." He said humourlessly. "You wouldn't have to finish that stupid project with me." He picked up his back, and Clary heard the bell ding, signalling it was time to get to class.

"I'd miss Isabelle," she said, following him down the hall. "And you." He stopped to look down at her, his eyes searching her face for something.

"Don't lie to me, Clary. No one ever misses me."

Clary met his eyes, reaching out to grip his shirt. She had to stand on her toes to meet his ear, his hair tickling her cheek. "I would." They locked eyes again; Clary tried to differ the emotions raving through his, trying to figure what he was thinking. It was the sound of the trumpets, signalling the last minutes before they were expected to be seated, that broke them apart. Jace spun on his heel, rushing through the hallways, leaving Clary to walk by herself.

**Hey, again, I just want to say I'm really sorry for taking four months to update this. School and life have just been really, really hectic lately. And I hadn't really had a blast of inspiration for writing lately. Took to a lot of reading. I finished The Hunger Games yesterday. It was FABULOUS! I am SOOOOOOOO psyched for the movie. Anyone but me?**

**Ooh, and I got Clockwork Prince for Christmas. It's AWESOME! Personally, I like Tessa better than Clary, because she thinks for herself a lot more. Mortmain and Benedict are better villains then Valentine, but Jace and Will are awesome either way. Can't decide with Jem/Alec. Isabelle is WAYYYYYY better the Jessamine, and Magnus is Magnus. So awesome either way. He's much more … outspoken, should I say, in Clockwork Prince though. **

**Off that, if anyone's read it, what did you think?**


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